


The Longest Time

by Another_Freak1258



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood Drinking, Comfortably Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Lack of Communication, M/M, Mention of Past Assault, Mention of Vampire Dean, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Protective Benny Lafitte, Protective Dean Winchester, Season/Series 08, forbidden relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25834891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Another_Freak1258/pseuds/Another_Freak1258
Summary: Dean has fallen into a routine of coming up with excuses to give Sam in order to visit Benny. Eventually, Dean notices how his friend’s lackluster diet has been making him steadily frailer. Despite every hunter instinct in his body warning him not to, Dean offers to let the vampire feed from him.
Relationships: Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 165





	1. i’m so inspired by you

**Author's Note:**

> I had a deanbenny fic of the same name but it just wasn’t it. I didn’t have a solid idea for it but this one I do. And I didn’t want to waste the title because “The Longest Time” by Billy Joel is the perfect deanbenny song.

In the Impala, Dean imagines walking into the small diner and taking a seat at the bar undetected, Benny’s back facing him. He’d get comfortable on the worn stool before saying something clever and smooth. Benny would turn around with wide eyes before taking in the sight of his friend, confusion quickly turning into excitement. Dean thinks about this for the majority of the drive, mostly because it’s either that or lingering on the fact Sam thinks he’s off doing something else entirely. 

When Dean actually arrives, he’s worried that the diner has already closed for the night. It’s late, around the time a restaurant like this would kick out any drunk, stubborn patrons. But when Dean exits his car he notices Benny’s deplorable pickup truck parked along the side of the building. He doesn’t bother fighting the smile that overtakes him. 

A bell chimes overhead when Dean enters the diner. Once again, the hunter imagines Benny’s rough voice apologetically calling from the back, “ _we’re closed for the night, friend_ ,” but instead, Benny comes out from the backroom as if he was expecting his friend to visit. The smile Dean pictured is there, though. 

“Dean!” Benny can’t hide his excitement. Or maybe he doesn’t have the same emotional hang-ups as Dean and the thought of concealing his true feelings doesn’t cross his mind. “I was surprised to sm—“ Benny pauses abruptly, looking away nervously as he fidgets with the dirty rag in his large hands. “Uh,” he flounders. “You surprised me! Wasn’t expectin’ to see you any time soon.” 

Overlooking Benny’s verbal backpedal, Dean leisurely takes a seat at the bar. Benny usually talks rather slow, like he’s thought carefully about each word that comes out of his mouth. He only struggles when he’s caught himself talking about something (e.g. monsters) that shouldn’t be discussed in public. They’re the only ones here though, so Dean silently wonders what Benny deemed inappropriate to say in front of his closest friend. “Yeah. Had the opportunity to come down and. . . Visit. I understand if you’re busy or something.” 

“No, no,” Benny reassures, becoming confident once more. He goes to stand behind the counter. “I’ll have you for however long I can get away with.” 

Dean will never cease to be overwhelmed by the vampire’s tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve. Dean was raised to express himself through actions rather than words. Not that Benny doesn’t do that, too, but Benny has no _shame_ in expressing himself. It’s one of the things Dean likes best about him, even if it can be overbearing at times. Like now. Dean’s blushing in response to the admission. He can feel the blood pooling under his cheeks but chooses to ignore his physical reaction to Benny’s affection, acting cool. “To be honest, I was hoping you’d have some leftovers I could take off your hands. Free of charge.” 

Endeared, Benny gestures at one of the glass displays. Two are empty and clean, but one contains a half-gone cream pie. Dean’s green eyes practically dazzle as he admires it from afar. Chuckling, the vampire goes to cut his friend a large slice. 

Dean licks his lips as the serving is set in front of him. Benny doesn’t take long getting a fork for him, but the hunter still considers picking it up and eating it like a piece of pizza. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen somebody look at pie the way you do, sugar,” Benny teases. He gives Dean some utensils and a large glass of milk. 

_Sugar_. The pet name is unorthodox at best and laughable at worst. Dean absolutely loves it. “Mm,” he moans when he takes his first bite. It’s so delicious, delicious in the way only homemade Southern cuisine can be. 

As the hunter eats, Benny continues straightening things up around the diner. He not-so-subtly preens while Dean enjoys food he prepared himself. It’s nice when customers enjoy their meals, but seeing his friend so satisfied by it is much more rewarding. 

“I thought, uh,” Dean thoughtlessly speaks with a full mouth, crumps and filling dribbling down the sides of his plump lips. “Well, I don’t need to get back to Sam any time soon. So um, if you wanted me to stick around for the night we could go out somewhere or. . . Go back to your place. Whatever.” He shovels the rest of the food in his gob, washing it all down with milk. 

How this usually goes is Dean will pop by for no longer than a few hours before making a dash for his car, reluctant to be away from his brother for too long. The subject of Sam is one that Benny tries his best to steer away from. The vampire doesn’t want to upset Dean by bringing up his brother and the obvious issues they have with each other. Therefore, Benny knows next to nothing about Sam and has no idea what Dean uses as an excuse to come see him. They are obviously lies, though. 

“Not much to go out to ‘round here,” the vampire drawls, shooting down the idea of trying to find a local bar. Benny chuckles sheepishly, making that face he makes when he’s trying to hide something. He’s so easy to read. “Why don’t we just rent a room down at that motel we met up at before?” 

Dean burps, looking around for a napkin to wipe his face. “Any reason why you don’t want me at your. . . House? Wherever you’re staying?” he asks, not concerned by any means but still suspicious. Dean doesn’t think Benny’s been doing anything bad, but he can’t ignore the possibility. 

Benny hands him a napkin from his apron. “See, that’s the thing about it.” He sighs, looking away. “Not really stayin’ anywhere at the moment.”

“Where the hell have you been sleeping?” Dean sounds disturbed, which is exactly why Benny didn’t want to talk about this. Dean has to deal with an exceptional amount of stress on a daily basis. Benny hates adding to that. He likes to deal with his problems in private. And really, this isn’t much of a problem.

“Oh. . . My truck. But hey, it really ain’t that big of a deal.” Benny’s shoulders tense as he takes off his uniform, anticipating Dean’s reaction. 

Not happy with Benny’s answer, Dean huffs. He’s a little annoyed that the vampire didn’t intend bringing his homelessness up. He is about to scold his friend like he would Sam, but Dean softens at the sight of Benny already looking throughly chastised. “Man, don’t keep that shit to yourself.” He slides off the barstool, following his friend as he locks up for the night. “I - I meant what I said when we got back. I’m here. Obviously a lot of this stuff you gotta handle on your own, but money? All you need to do is call me. I don’t mind.” 

“That’s real generous of you, Dean, and I do appreciate it.” Benny holds the door open for his friend, smiling softly at their close proximity. “I guess it’s that _I_ mind. I don’t need much, y’know? Don’t bother me none.”

Dean glances over at Benny’s truck. There’s a large blanket in the back, surely. Benny probably just throws it over himself so the sun doesn’t bother him while he’s asleep. Self-sacrificing bastard. “Well, I’m still leaving you with a few credit cards before I head back to the Bunker. You wanna leave your truck here?”

Benny makes sure that the entrance is locked before starting to walk towards the Impala. “If you don’t mind bringing me back later. I’d hate to miss an opportunity to ride in this beauty again.”

* * *

After Dean’s disgusted reaction to seeing Benny feed from a blood bag not too long ago, around the time they cleared out his old nest, Benny has refrained from talking about anything related to him being a vampire as much as possible. It took awhile for Dean to notice because, although he did in the beginning, ‘vampire’ isn’t the first thing Dean thinks when he’s looks at Benny. It’s friend and trustworthy and loyal. Kind and handsome. And _then_ vampire. 

Dean will always admit to not being the sharpest tool in the shed, but contrary to popular belief, he’s not a complete dumbass. He can be perceptive. He’d be a horrible hunter if he wasn’t. So Dean knows that the reason why Benny avoids talking about being a vampire is for Dean’s benefit. To please him. To make it easier for him to forget they are hereditary enemies. The realization makes Dean feel like shit. Some friend he is, making Benny feel bad for something he can’t help. 

There’s no way Dean can bring it up without embarrassing the both of them. So all he has to do is show Benny that it’s alright to talk about his vampy stuff. That it doesn’t make Dean uncomfortable. 

He keeps this in the back of his mind as they’re catching up in their motel room. Dean’s thankful they’re alone again because the look the receptionist gave them clearly showed what he thought they were checking in for. Dean and Sam still occasionally get those looks, those assuming questions like, ‘oh, one king?’ and the disbelief when they request two twins. But it hasn’t bothered him in years. It’s funny most of time. But with Benny, it does bother him. Not because the idea of them renting a room to hookup in is gross, but because Dean would love that. And the hunter is so sure that Benny would love that too, but they’ll forever be at a standstill until Dean makes the first move. And Dean knows better than to put this fragile bond they share on the line like that. Right? 

Their friendship is already set in stone to end horribly. Dean’s relationships always do. This won’t be any different. It’s only a matter of making it more painful by becoming romantically involved with Benny. He can’t emotionally handle what he went through with Lisa. Not again. 

Amidst their conversation, Dean’s eyes wander to the old alarm clock ticking away on the nightstand across the room. It immediately reminds him of that awful experience he had a few years ago, when Sam had lost his soul. 

Benny notices that Dean’s attention has been stolen and he curiously tries to ascertain what his friend is staring at. “Bugs?” he guesses.

Dean shakes his head absently, standing up from his seat at the outdated motel table. He moseys over to the nightstand and reluctantly looks behind it. Benny watches with confusion as his friend unplugs the alarm clock. He’s about to rejoin Benny at the table before he hesitates once more, evidently deciding he should turn off the lamp. This doesn’t submerge them in complete darkness; the colorful motel lights outside illuminate the room, courtesy of the threadbare curtains. It would be a horrible room to have if you really did want to sleep. 

Although the vampire looks very confused, Dean immediately notices how Benny’s eyes are less tense. Less squinty. He takes a seat across from his friend, satisfied. 

“You all about conserving energy nowadays or what?” Benny laughs, trying to understand. 

Now sitting, Dean feels a bit silly. Where to begin? “Or what,” he starts, rubbing his mouth as he decides what to say. “You know how you said earlier all my stories sound unbelievable? I got another one you’ll find nuts.” 

Always interested in hearing what Dean has to say, Benny leans back comfortably and gestures for his friend to continue. His attentiveness is both sweet and nerve-wracking.

“A few years ago, I actually got, um.” Dean frowns, remembering the attack vividly despite how long it’s been. Particularly how violated he felt. “Caught. By a vampire.” He pauses to see Benny’s reaction. 

Benny raises an eyebrow. “Ain’t that like a trip to the grocery store for you?” 

Dean smiles, some of his unease melting away as he remembers that he’s with safe company. No one is touching him without his consent. He’s safe. “Good point. Nah, I mean. . . He turned me. Turned me into a vampire.” Dean looks away, sure he’ll only find disbelief on Benny’s face. And after that fades, hope. He doesn’t want to mislead Benny by implying there’s a way to cure him. “This kinda ruins the story, but the whole thing ends with me getting cured of it. Cure only works if you haven’t fed, though.” After a few moments, Dean glances back up. 

Thankfully, there’s little disappointment on his friend’s face. It’s still mostly disbelief and confusion. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of anything like that.”

Dean nods. “I hadn’t either. We were in contact with my grandfather at the time and apparently it was an old family recipe. I’m just thankful it worked.” 

“Of course,” Benny agrees easily. He stares at Dean unhappily for a second or two. “I’m real sorry for asking, cher, but where the hell was Sam during all this?”

The last thing Dean wants to explain is how Sam was soulless at the time. Not only because of the pain it would cause, but because it would require so much backstory. Dean sighs, “It’s complicated. But you should know that it wasn’t really his fault.” 

Benny looks upset at the idea of Dean getting hurt on Sam’s watch, but he drops it. “Alright. What’s all that gotta do with unplugging that junk?” 

Dean, pleased to have gotten to the point of bringing all this up, turns towards Benny. Through a sliver in the curtain, a car’s headlights pass directly over the vampire’s blue eyes and the light reflects back in that unsettling, supernatural way vampire eyes do. However, the spectacle doesn’t make Dean’s fingers twitch like it usually would. It’s just Benny. 

“After that vamp forced some blood down my throat, Sam chased him off and we headed back to our motel.” Dean stares at the tabletop so that he can focus better. “I remember. . . It was so quick. I could feel it spreading inside me. My whole body ached like I was poisoned.” His lips quirk up. “Or really hungover.” 

Benny snorts, otherwise remaining silent. Dean becomes somber again as he continues. 

“That was what happened first. Then everything got worse when we finally made it to our room.” Dean grimaces. “I got this unbearable migraine. My gums. . . Ached. And, obviously, I got super hungry. Midnight-run-to-McDonald’s hungry. But besides all that, what I remember the most clearly is how sensitive I was. My eyes, my hands, my ears. . . It was like I had spent my whole life blindfolded and deaf, and now suddenly all of that was gone. And that damn clock was so _loud_.” Dean points at the poor machine with malice. “I ripped it right out of the wall. I couldn’t stand the noise.” 

Shaking his head at the memory, Dean looks at his friend. Of all things, Benny looks pitying. Not even empathic, like he deserves to be. “You. . . How long were you like that?” At Dean’s answer, the vampire whistles. “Damn, chief. That’s nothin’ to sneeze at. It’s very impressive how you didn’t give in. You should be proud of yourself.” 

“I almost did a few times. And I wanted to so badly,” the hunter admits shamefully, thinking of both Sam and Lisa. And fuck, _Ben_. “It didn’t matter where I went, the - um, the heartbeats. . .” Dean feels awkward saying it out loud. “It was really distracting.” 

Benny clears his throat, almost nodding but not quite. Eventually, he returns to showering Dean with compliments. “Don’t matter what you _almost_ did, matters what you did. And what you did, resisting that long, is unheard of. Even if you ain’t proud of yourself, I am.” Dean rolls his eyes fondly. 

Abruptly, it dawns on Benny why his friend unplugged the clock and lamp. He furrows his eyebrows. “Uh. Thank you, hun. But don’t go outta your way on my account. I’m used to it.” Both his expression and voice is uncomfortable and guilty. Dean hates how the vampire can’t accept even a small gesture of accommodation. It’s the least he can do. 

“It’s the least I can do, Benny,” Dean says, friendly but firm. “No skin off my nose.” 

Benny shrugs. “It’s not nearly as bad once you’ve got a few years under your belt,” he dismisses, undermining the discomfort he undoubtably feels. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Dean comments, not unkindly. “But I have the feeling it’s still pretty bad.” Although it’s unwarranted, the hunter feels bad for making Benny look so uncomfortable. “Especially with your diet.” 

At this, Benny looks at Dean with more shock than he did when the subject of Dean being turned popped up. “You—“ He swallows. “What makes you say that?” The vampire smiles halfheartedly, trying to play off his strong reaction. 

Dean squints thoughtfully. Why did mentioning his diet set him off? For the first time tonight, the hunter allows himself to properly examine Benny. The dim lighting does him no favors, but doesn’t prevent Dean from noticing how pale Benny is. Benny’s usually pretty pale, but he’s _very_ pale. His eyes are a bit sunken in, too. If he were human, Dean would think Benny was sick. He frowns. “I mean, with you living off bags. . . If I sat you next to a regular vamp, wouldn’t you be a little worse off?” 

Benny shifts in his seat. “Yeah,” he murmurs. 

“Benny,” Dean says sternly. The hunter has a terrible idea circulating in his head. “Look at me.”

The vampire does so, looking very much like a child who has been caught doing something they shouldn’t. Whether Dean’s suspicions are right or not, Benny is aware that what he is doing is not good. 

“You’ve been eating, right? Like, as much as you need to?”

The fact Benny continues to be visibly restless answers Dean’s question. No. “It’s not the easiest to get blood ‘round here,” he says hesitantly. Then Benny slumps, probably because he’s realized that Dean isn’t going to let this go. “. . .I eat _enough_. I can promise you.” 

Dean feels a little relieved hearing that. But just because it’s enough doesn’t mean it’s acceptable. “I don’t mean to be rude, man, but you look like you haven’t been.” 

Benny concedes. “I’m sorry about that, cher. I ain’t sure if it’s the amount or the. . . Quality. Haven’t lived off bags before.” 

It’s moments like these that Dean wishes he knew more about vampires than just how to kill them. “Don’t apologize. What do you mean by quality?” 

“Well, they gotta mix all sorts of stuff in the blood to keep it good for transfusions. So it don’t clump up and the like. Makes it taste funny,” Benny explains. 

Dean rubs his face, making his friend wince at the display of stress. The hunter reaches out to take Benny’s hand, surprised when he feels how abnormally cold it is. Dean tries to not let it show. “How about we get in my car and drive out to the nearest donation center?“ Before the vampire can protest, Dean adds, “That’s what I’d like to do.” 

Flattered, Benny squeezes Dean’s hand. “Sure, sugar.” 

Dean licks his lips, forcing himself to pull away.

* * *

All in all, it’s a successful robbery. Dean goes in alone under the pretense of it being less risky, but in reality it’s because he knows Benny will feel guilty about the whole thing. Dean doesn’t really care. If it were up to him, Benny would get as much blood as he needs. Which is probably way more than this measly cooler can fit. 

Back at the motel, Dean double checks the cooler is doing it’s job before reluctantly looking at the time. He’s pleased to see they still have a few more hours before he has to go. 

Benny is profusely thankful for the stocked cooler. And Dean just feels so appreciated and special and _safe_ that he can’t help himself. He hugs Benny. 

Now, let the record show that Dean isn’t a hugger. Hugs usually result from recent or current tragedy. Hugs mean _I’m about to die_ or _I thought I lost you_. But they never have with Benny. In fact, they hug rather often, typically before Dean runs back to his brother. Benny wouldn’t know that this is a huge deal, Dean being so openly affectionate. He has no frame of reference. 

Dean wraps his arms around Benny confidently and closes his eyes. Benny’s body is naturally cold and stiff, giving away the fact he’s only mascaraing as a man. But it’s not like he smells like a corpse, so Dean doesn’t mind. 

Benny always places one arm low on Dean’s back and the other over his shoulder blades, encasing him perfectly. So when Benny doesn’t, both his large hands resting awkwardly on Dean’s hips, the hunter notices. Opening his eyes, Dean stares at a tuft of his friend’s hair for a moment before realizing he’s a giant asshole. “Oh, I’m such a—“

Feeling extremely dumb and insensitive, Dean pulls away from the embrace. “Dude, I’m so sorry.” 

Unsurprisingly, Benny has that distant look in his eyes Dean’s caught a few times. He’s staring at Dean’s neck, instinctively causing the hunter to swallow. “Benny?” he tries. “Benny?” 

It doesn’t take long at all for the vampire to snap himself out of it, taking a few steps back. Benny looks terribly guilty. He knows he’s been caught.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dean assures. “Seriously, I was practically waving it in your face.” He laughs, hoping to relieve some of the tension. 

Normally they’re able to hug without issue. Or, at least, without Benny giving away that there _is_ an issue. Dean looks at the cooler. Benny could probably down the contents of it at the moment without a thought. There’s enough blood in it to make up at least three people. Benny will strictly ration it like he seems to do, but who knows when he’ll be able to get home. But they must go bad at some point. Not to mention what he said earlier about the additives. . .

“I hate to do this while you’re here, but - Mind if I take that real quick into the bathroom and just, y’know?” Benny gestures towards the cooler. “Won’t take long.”

Dean nibbles on his bottom lip with deliberation. His heart is beating faster than usual and it catches Benny’s attention. The vampire does his best to ignore its siren call and figure out why it’s elevated. “Somethin’ wrong?” 

The hunter takes a deep breath. “No. But.” Dean looks at Benny with determination and takes a step towards him. “I know it might be awhile before you can get more bags. Even longer before I’m able to come see you again. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but. . .” Dean takes another step forward. “What if you fed from me?”


	2. i haven’t been there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy ♥️ sorry for any grammatical mistakes

Benny wordlessly stares at Dean, horrified. He’s looking at Dean as if the hunter is a stranger doing something particularly atrocious. Dean feel an insane spurt of offense creep up on him. Before he can stop himself, he suggests, “What, am I not kosher or something?” Benny sure seemed interested in taking a bite out of him a few minutes ago. 

“Dean,” Benny says. “You. . . What the hell has gotten into you?” 

A touch embarrassed, Dean crosses his arms defensively. Because, well, Benny has a point. What has gotten into him? _Him_! Dean Winchester! Offering himself to a vampire! Every monster-killing ancestor he has is surely watching this transpire with abhorrence. He’s been trained to not even turn his back on a monster, much less tilt his head and let one chow down on him. 

But Benny isn’t just a monster. He isn’t some random vamp drawing attention to himself in a bar, a run-of-the-mill creature Dean refers to killing as a milk run. Benny is his friend, one of the best he’s ever had. Benny wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt him. He. . . Cares about Dean. Cares about humans. Despite the liquid diet and fangs, Benny isn’t a monster. He doesn’t qualify as one. 

Dean jerks his head towards the cooler. “This will only last you a few weeks, tops. I hate thinking about you going hungry.”

Interpreting Dean’s words incorrectly, Benny assures, “I ain’t gonna hurt no one.” 

“I know that!” Dean shouts thoughtlessly. He runs his hands over his face and begins pacing the room. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t think you’ll let yourself get so bad that you’re a danger to be around. What I’m getting at is. . . I don’t want to be in Tulsa or Boise or Omaha, thinking about how you’re out of bags and suffering.” 

Dean usually plays dirty, and since this is for Benny’s own good, he doesn’t hold back. He stops pacing and holds his ground in front of the vampire, showing Benny that he isn’t apprehensive. The proximity must do something to Benny’s resolve. Dean’s been told his entire life by various creepy crawlies that he smells delicious. He wonders distantly if the fact he hasn’t showered in a few days works with or against him. 

Benny trembles. “I’m not your responsibility, Dean.” The vampire looks longingly at the cooler his friend is blocking. “I can hold my own, you know that. I never want to use you like that.” 

“Why not?” Dean challenges, irritated by the use of ‘Dean’ rather than a pet name. 

“Cuz you’re my friend!” Benny cries incredulously. “I wouldn’t—How could you ever think I’d wanna treat you that way?” 

Remembering that Benny’s looking at this whole thing from a different perspective, Dean takes a deep breath. “No, I don’t think that. Actually, it’s how I know this isn’t a bad idea.” He steps closer, the sound of his boots on the carpet louder than they have any right to be. “I trust you, Benny. I. . . Just, let me, okay?” Dean gently grasps the vampire’s sturdy shoulders.

One of Benny’s cold hands rises and strokes Dean’s calluses affectionately. His expression remains conflicted, but Dean can tell he’s getting through to his friend. “Sugar,” Benny whispers, Southern voice honey-coated despite the pain evident in his tone, “don’t wanna hurt you.”

If he wasn’t grounded by his hold on Benny, Dean thinks he would be swooning. _Fuck_ , this feeling. Love. Being in love. Dean can barely entertain the thought. The last time he felt like this was when he was seeing Lisa. He promised himself that he wouldn’t get close to somebody like that again, but along comes this fucker. _Benny_. 

Really, it’s hardly Dean’s fault for catching feelings. How could he have anticipating himself falling for a _vampire_? Their initial partnership was justifiable. Benny wanted out of Purgatory, Dean wanted out of Purgatory. Simple math. Although the acknowledgment of it makes Dean feel awful, the original plan had been a) hope the vampire isn’t lying about the exit he’s heard of, b) find Cas and drag his dumbass back home, and c) kill the vampire. But Benny fucked all that up by being. . . Himself. By watching over Dean and protecting him from other monsters. By being so outrageously attractive with his bright blue eyes and Southern drawl. By demanding, _“Why’d you bail on Dean?”_ once they finally found the wayward angel. By needlessly saving Cas’s life from a Leviathan. 

After all that, it only made sense to honor their agreement. Benny wasn’t all that bad of a guy. Dean had no problem letting him go. What was the harm in having a soft spot for the monster that got him out of Purgatory? If Benny fell off the wagon, Dean would take care of it. 

Of course, they were supposed to go their separate ways once topside. That didn’t end up happening. Dean wanted to keep in touch, under the pretense of keeping an eye on Benny. The hunter bought him a phone, among other things, and made sure Benny was relatively prepared for the twenty-first century. 

They spoke way more than was strictly necessary and eventually Dean couldn’t pretend this wasn’t what it was. Benny had become his friend. One of his best friends. And with every secret meet-up, the title evolved naturally into crush. It couldn’t be helped. 

Dean glances at Benny’s pursed lips, thinking about the razor sharp fangs he’s hiding in his gums. As a hunter, Dean’s been bit quite a few times by different creatures. It’s never been a fun experience. “I find it hard to believe that you’d just—rip into me,” he comments easily. “Even if you couldn’t help yourself, I’ve been through worse.” 

Still finding excuses, Benny shakes his head. “I couldn’t let you drive afterwards. You’d have to stay longer than you got.” 

In the past, Dean’s drove more or less without complications after significant blood lost, but Benny’s a mother hen so he knows the vampire really would prevent him, consequences be damned. “Alright. I just gotta text Sam and we’re good to go.” 

Benny continues challenging him. “And you’re gonna parade around with a bite mark in front of him?” 

“He already thinks I’m here taking care of a nest,” Dean informs smugly. “I told him one of my old rescues thought she saw some suspicious activity and asked me to come check it out.”

Peeved by the thought of Sam being alright with Dean hunting by himself, Benny frowns. “He didn’t kick up dirt ‘bout you goin’ alone?” 

Dean chuckles at his friend’s display of protectiveness. “Hell yeah he did. But, uh.” He clears his throat, slightly bashful. “It isn’t odd for the women I save to express their gratitude, if you know what I mean. Said that I wanted to handle it myself cuz me and the girl had history like that. Didn’t want Sam stealing my thunder.” 

Benny relaxes momentarily before remembering they’re in the middle of an argument. He opens his mouth to spout another reason why he shouldn’t feed from Dean, but the hunter cuts him off. 

“I’m offering to do this,” Dean stresses. How ridiculous that it’s taken this much convincing to get a vampire to drink his blood! “I want to. Are you—are you just worried about not being able to stop? I got deadman’s blood in my car. I won’t need to use it but if it makes you feel better I can have it on standby.” Pulling away, he grabs his keys. 

“ _Dean_. . .”

“Benny, c’mon. It’ll be okay.” 

Dean returns with a large syringe and the emergency overnight bag he keeps in his trunk. “I’m gonna let my brother know I’m staying the night,” he informs, digging his phone out of his pocket. 

Huffing in exasperation, Benny walks over to the cooler and sets it on the dining table. “You’re so damn stubborn.” 

Grinning, Dean focuses on typing out a message to Sam.  
  


Dean’s thankful for the quick response even though it’s a bad sign. Sam was waiting by the phone. He knows something is up, as much as he’s pretending to be ignorant of Dean’s disappearances. _I’ll deal with it later_ , the hunter thinks, rummaging around his duffle for his phone charger. 

As he’s kicking off his shoes, Dean muses that this is a lot like preparing for a night of drinking. Drunk him wouldn’t be capable of unlacing his boots or plugging in his phone, so sober Dean has to settle all those affairs beforehand. He doubts he’ll get half as woozy as Benny’s thinking he will. 

Wagering they’ll need a towel at some point, Dean grabs one from the bathroom. “Stay a little while,” Dean urges, noticing how Benny’s standing at the foot of the bed stiffly. He takes off his flannel, now only wearing a grey undershirt and blue jeans. “You don’t mind if I get more comfortable, right?” 

Dean watches as Benny’s eyes widen at the sound—and sight—of Dean’s belt unbuckling. The vampire spins around when he realizes Dean is going to be taking off his pants.

Laughing, Dean removes the denim and stuffs it uncaringly into his duffle. “What a gentleman. I’d hate for you to see my ankles.” 

Benny’s positive he’d be blushing if his poor blood circulation allowed such a thing. “Sorry,” he murmurs abashedly, turning back around on his heel. They’re both grown men. His bright blue eyes dart down once to briefly observe Dean’s underwear before settling on the hunter’s amused face. Dean stares back expectantly.

“Do you mind taking the lead?” Dean asks when Benny makes no further move. 

“Right.” Benny swallows nervously. He’s acting like he’s the one about to be drank from. “Uh, get on the bed, hun. . .” Dean does as instructed. Benny joins him, slowly removing his own shoes. Once he’s run out of things to procrastinate with, the vampire laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve done this.” 

Dean imagines being bitten and realizes that Benny is probably struggling to think of a position that isn’t super intimate. But, really, there isn’t a way to make biting someone’s throat not intimate. “I’ve got an idea, lean up against those pillows.” Once the vampire is sitting up against the short headboard, Dean can tell he’s caught on. Judging by his expression, this is the way Andrea and him used to do this. “Now this is familiar territory, ha,” the hunter jokes as he climbs onto Benny’s lap, trying to sound confident as he references his frequent escapades.

Trying not to think about how awkward this is, Dean flushes. Benny’s slacks against his bare thighs feels pretty erotic. Well, the entire thing feels erotic. He’s grateful when the vampire seems completely detached from the sensation of Dean being on top of him, more interested in being so close to a vulnerable human. Seeing Benny’s normally emotive eyes become glossy and dilated is unnerving, as much as Dean trusts him. He swallows. 

Benny takes Dean’s hips, pulling him closer, and then one of his hands cups the right side of the hunter’s face. He gently encourages Dean to turn slightly, exposing his neck. He doesn’t seem reluctant anymore, instead driven by instinct. “Cher,” he growls, pressing his cold nose into Dean’s hot flesh. “Fuck. . .”

Dean’s skin erupts in goose bumps and he struggles not to jerk away. A deeply rooted voice in Dean’s hindbrain is panicking, saying, _don’t let it bite you, you have to escape_. He must force himself to stay put, it’s a conscious effort. 

Growling again, the vampire invokes a gasp when he begins laving over Dean’s jugular. Benny sucks and licks his salty skin without shame, digging his fingers almost painfully into his friend’s flesh. At least Benny doesn’t have claws like some vampires do. 

It is objectively frightening to have a vampire at your throat, but Dean’s disturbing psyche also finds it arousing. Benny is arousing, so it makes sense that Benny giving him love bites and hickeys would rev Dean’s engine. This becomes very irritating as the hunter, not one to deny himself carnal pleasures, feels his cock jolt to life. Hopefully the pain will prevent him from getting a full-fledged erection, if not the blood loss. 

The sound of Benny’s fangs dropping perturbs Dean further. His heartbeat is undoubtedly deafening to the vampire, egging him on. Dean feels the sharp points of them skirt over his damp skin, looking for the best place to sink into. Benny doesn’t search very long. 

Dean grunts as the fangs penetrate his jugular. It stings terribly. He can feel every individual tooth carving into him. Although, Benny doesn’t shake them around to inspire rapid blood flow. In fact, after Benny has initially bit him, the vampire removes his fangs and focuses on sucking. They aren’t retracted, still catching on his mutilated wound and scrapping the puncture points, but Dean appreciates it nevertheless. It’s sweet. 

This also makes the experience turn from painful to uncomfortable. Compared to what Dean expected, it’s almost mediocre. Which is a pleasant surprise. Dean rubs his hands encouragingly between his friend’s shoulder blades. 

Dean’s artery is helping things along, pumping out thick spurts of blood that Benny slurps greedily. It’s coming out so quickly that the hunter is worried Benny bit him too well. Although the last thing the vampire is probably thinking about is protecting the integrity of Dean’s shirt, he’s doing a fantastic job of not making a mess. Benny wastes barely a drop. 

“That good, huh?” Dean says proudly. He wonders what he tastes like, if different blood types have different flavors, if his blood type is one of Benny’s favorites. “Made it myself.” 

No more than five minutes later, Dean starts getting a tad faint. He’s hesitant to even say anything about it, because. . . Well, because Benny deserves to indulge. Dean loves the idea of his best friend swallowing his blood, his blood making Benny full and satisfied. And it doesn’t hurt that bad at all. 

Even in the midst of feeding, Benny seems to be somewhat aware of what’s going on. He isn’t gulping like a mad man anymore, at least. He’s letting the blood fill his mouth naturally before swallowing. Dean holds on for as long as he’s able, knowing it’s time to speak up once his head starts getting really hot. “Benny. . .” he mutters drowsily. 

Growling, the vampire takes one last mouthful before reaching for the towel and pulling away. Benny presses the coarse fabric against Dean’s wound, chest heaving. Dean knows that vampires don’t breathe, but his foggy mind can’t come up with an explanation for why Benny is panting. 

Dean’s head is too heavy to hold up so he decides to just let it fall. The hand that had been cupping the hunter’s cheek grabs it in time. ”Oh, darlin’,” Benny whispers guiltily. 

“‘M fine. Better lie down, though.” 

Benny’s super strength comes in handy as he effortlessly maneuvers Dean. The hunter holds the towel to his neck firmly, exhausted. 

Licking the blood caked in his beard, Benny says, “Lemme get you a glass of water.” He unwraps one of the coffee cups on the kitchen counter and fills it using the sink. Dean’s too out of it to argue when the vampire hands it to him, insisting Dean drink. It hurts to swallow. 

The duffle bag is set on the bed, pressed against Dean’s right calf. “You got first aid in here, right?” Dean doesn’t answer, trying his best not to fall asleep. Benny finds what he’s looking for and takes over Dean’s job of holding the towel. “Finish your water, cher, and I’ll let you sleep.”

* * *

Dean wakes up hours later feeling like he’s been run over, if not lightly grazed by an oncoming vehicle. He feels underneath the pillow he’s curled around, confused when he doesn’t find any sort of weapon under it. Huh? Dean’s shoot open and he looks around the motel room. Seeing Benny, he relaxes. 

“Mornin’,” the vampire drawls. He’s sat at the kitchen table, holding a large clear cup full of juice and spinning it leisurely. 

Grunting only response, Dean takes his time stretching and cracking his back. He feels marginally better once a few minutes of lucidity have passed. “You look comfy,” the hunter comments gruffly. “. . .You didn’t sit there staring at me all night, right?” 

Benny smiles mischievously, looking away. “Sure, if it makes you feel better.”

“Dude.” Dean rubs the sleep out of his eyes, flinching when the bed dips and food is being handed to him. “Jesus, don’t do that. You’re just as bad as Cas, popping up out of nowhere.” 

“And you’re grumpy in the mornin’.” 

Dean takes a long sip of orange juice before starting to devour his egg sandwich. Not his first choice for breakfast, but he still moans in appreciation. While he’s eating, Dean remembers all at once why exactly he’s so sore. His fingers gingerly press against where Benny fed from him, feeling the bandage. 

“Doesn’t look like I’ll need to replace it before you go,” Benny says.

Humming, Dean turns his attention towards his friend. Benny looks great. His skin no longer a sickly pale shade typically reserved for cadavers, now pinker and more alive. He appears overall in far better shape, alert and healthy, the difference night and day. Curious, the hunter brushes his fingers over Benny’s forearm, finding it warm to the touch. He feels human. Looks human. He’d have half a chance passing as one now instead of being easily pointed out by a hunter. “Wow,” he mutters around bits of egg and bread. 

Benny’s eyes regard him endearingly. Seems like a good meal not only rejuvenates his body, but puts him in a easygoing mood. Not that Benny’s usually bothered by how messy of an eater Dean is. But Dean expected him to be rather broody and guilty the morning after the feeding ordeal. “You feelin’ okay?”

Nodding, Dean drinks the rest of his orange juice casually, attempting to remove a large piece of food lingering in his throat from swallowing too early. He coughs. “Much better than I have before. You’re a lot more considerate than the fangs I’m used to dealing with.” 

“I would hope so.” Benny scratches the back of his neck. “Um, thank you, Dean. I feel good, too.” He cringes at his own words but Dean understands what he’s trying to say.

“I bet you do! You look human, even up close like this.” Dean tosses his empty drink in the waste basket nearby. It’s less than three feet away but Dean still cheers when he makes the shot. “Uh, during the brief time I was a vamp, everybody smelled like double bacon cheeseburgers to me,” he laughs. “I imagined blood tasting like something similar. Does that depend on the person or. . .” 

“Ah,” Benny hums thoughtfully. “Varies, I’d say.You? You’re real sweet. Like candy. Wouldn’t expect anything different, to be frank.” He unabashedly looks over his dear friend, something in his eyes that Dean refuses to recognize as yearning. Who’d _yearn_ after him? 

Dean hops off the bed to ruin the moment, starting to get his things together. He knows he asked for it, but to hear Benny say he tastes sweet, well, it’s a little too much. “S-Sweet, huh? I would’ve guessed greasy. Anyway, thanks for the breakfast, man.”

Benny’s known him too long to not realize Dean’s wiping his hands clean of the conversation, ready to repress and move on from the fragile moment. He watches the hunter pack, trying not to blatantly stare while Dean gets dressed. 

“Uh, I don’t mind. . .” Dean coughs, narrowly avoiding eye contact when Benny stands up. “We can do this whenever I come visit. I don’t mind. Makes me feel better about the whole thing, so really you’re doing me a favor.” 

Stepping closer, Benny cups the hunter’s cheek. When Dean doesn’t jerk away, he winks. “I appreciate it.”

Dean’s tongue darts across his bottom lip, making it shiny and tempting. _Kiss me,_ he thinks. _Kiss me_. “Don’t mention it.” 

“Probably for the best,” Benny jokes. 

“Uh-huh.” Dean leans forward minutely, eyes dilated. 

Benny flashes a pleased grin before going for broke, capturing his friend’s plump lips in a heated kiss. They stand in the middle of the dusty motel room for a minute or so, saying with their bodies what they’re too afraid to say with words. 

All too aware that Dean needs to get on the road, the vampire pulls away after pressing a final kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. “Don’t worry ‘bout my truck. Ain’t a long walk back to the diner. ‘N’ you best get back to your brother.” 

Dean would normally argue, but at the mention of Sam he’s put in a completely different mode. “Yeah,” he sighs, sounding far more tired than he should. Surprising both of them, Dean shoots forward one last time to share a wet kiss before heading towards the door, knuckles white as he suffocates the handle of his duffle bag. “I’ll talk to you soon, Benny.”

_Not soon enough, mon amour._ “Take care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of an ambiguous ending but it’s hopeful. You can bet that Dean blushed all the way back to the Bunker.

**Author's Note:**

> no matter how much of a fight benny puts up, I can sure you that there will be consensual blood drinking in the next chapter 🥵


End file.
